concealing
by SpicyLime
Summary: Being lonely is a bad thing.


Manipulative. Malicious. Mischievous. Egoistic. Conceited. Self-centered. Sarcastic bastard or asshole even. Sometimes they would call him handsome or pretty. Those were the words, the people used to describe him every day. Some would even go as far as calling him the devil. Rumours were going around, that **he** didn't have any emotions other than mischief and malice.. but no one ever thought about how he came to be like that, or what was going on in his mind. They just assumed that **he** was born like that, has always been like that and would never ever change. No one ever would give him a chance to change. Not that **he** would ever want to change for those people. They didn't deserve it.

No one ever noticed, not even those who were closer to him than the rest, the loneliness that was flaring deep within him, eating him alive. No one would be able to understand the pain **he** was feeling, not that anyone would try to, not when even the **monster** had people who cared about him.

Deep within he wanted people to notice, to notice his real self.. to see through his flawless mask, that actually wasn't that flawless anymore..Which only further proved that the people around him didn't care one bit about him, that realization pained him more than he wanted to believe it did. Who was he kidding? Why was he getting so pitiful? It had always been like that..so why was he feeling like this? Why did he feel like suffocating whenever everyone turned on him?

He had tried. Tried so many times to win their attention, it didn't really matter how he'd achieve that, but maybe that had been his mistake? Maybe that had been the reason why everyone despised him?

 **Throb**

Maybe that was why everyone would avoid him whenever he was around?

 **THROB**

Maybe that was why **their** laughter and their conversation would die down whenever he announced his presence?

 **THROB**

Maybe that is the reason why he was alone and **he** wasn't?

Maybe he should stop wearing that fake mask, and start showing his true self? Would that be even possible, with his pride blocking his way to the thing that was called 'happiness'? A word so foreign that it left a bitter taste on his tongue, whenever he found the strength to actually say it instead of thinking about it. Would anyone even want to grant him that emotion? Because he was more than aware, that it wouldn't be possible to be happy when he was all alone. He had to learn it at an early age. The people who he grew up with, who taunted him, oppressed him, tormented him and tortured him mentally, formed and created the **him** now that was sitting on the edge of his rooftop, looking up into the dark night sky. He didn't choose to be like this, he didn't want to be like this anymore.. but he didn't know how to be different..he needed someone who could lead him the way.. he hoped for the impossible but no one would ever offer him a helping hand. The only thing the people ever did was avoid him, sneer at him, laugh at him, look down on him.

He wasn't as strong as the people thought, it was just the mask that the people saw, that he so painfully had to create to survive the torture he went through.

Humans were selfish. Only seeing what they want to see. Never seeing what **he** wanted them to see.

No one ever smiled at him, or showed him any type of affection. Did a hug really feel as warm as the people described it in all the novels he had read? What did **warmth** even feel like? The only thing he ever felt was the cold, and the darkness that had been trapping him, the real, the vulnerable him.

He was too afraid to show his true face, after all the things he had been forced to do, no one would ever accept him let alone believe him.. they would think that it was one of his 'evil games'.

There had once been that one male he called his friend in secret. He wanted to trust him so desperately, wanted to show him his true self.. but that friend of his didn't really see him as a friend.

The only thing that male ever cared for was **her**.

There was a female too. She had worked for him. At first he didn't see her as anything more than his employee but after a while he wanted to believe that, whenever she made him tea or made him eat something, that it was because she cared..but the only reason why she did those things was because of her pay-check. The only person she cared for, was her younger **brother**.

Even his own **sisters** disliked him. They would even kill him if they could, or if it meant that they'd be able to meet that **Idol**. Because **he** was the only one his sisters cared for.

There was one time he was fascinated with someone. You could even go as far as calling it his **crush**. He was like him, he was different than the others..but that alone wasn't enough to make him like him. Because **he** despised him the most. The fragile male hadn't even gotten a chance to introduce himself to him, before **he** wanted nothing more than kill him.

The vulnerable male looked down onto the still busy streets.

The couples and families, the humans in general, looked always so happy. Smiling and laughing, enjoying their lives.

There was a sudden thought that disturbed his previous observations. Would anyone miss him when he died? Would anyone even notice? Or care?

 **No.**

He shuddered at that thought, but it was true. He was **alone**.

He once again looked up into the sky, a lone star catching his attention.

He smiled sadly up at the lonely star, a lone tear trailing down his left cheek.

"Being lonely sucks..ne?"

* * *

A/N:

What do you guys think of it? Did you enjoy it? Well I hope you did :) because I did enjoy writing this..

and If you read this then I would really appreciate it If you'd leave me a comment.

And tell me if you maybe would want a continuation. :)

Oh and I hope you could make out all the characters hehe :b


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